


please don't make any sudden moves

by trashmouthtrash



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bev and Richie are besties, Child Abuse, Gen, Hurt Richie Tozier, Hurt/Comfort, Richie's parents are shitty and abusive and they can FIGHT ME, The Losers are there for richie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 04:45:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14609628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashmouthtrash/pseuds/trashmouthtrash
Summary: you don't know the half of the abuse(read the tags I'm too tired to do a summary)





	please don't make any sudden moves

**Author's Note:**

> I love richie tozier with all my soul and I needed more Bev & Richie friendship. and angst, of course. idk.

When someone knocked on the door - repeatedly - the losers knew Richie had finally arrived to their sleepover. Eddie got up to open the door.

“You’re late, Richie. Again.”

“Sorry, Eds. I was busy -”

“I swear to god if you say -”

“- fucking your mom.”

Eddie swatted at him. “Fuck you, Richie.”

“Maybe later.”

XXX

Maggie Tozier was passed out on the couch when her husband got home. Wentworth reeked of booze as he shook her awake, brandishing an envelope in his hand. 

“Where’s Richard?”

“Hmm?”

“Where’s our dipshit son? Need to knock some sense into him about these grades.”

“Don’t know. Not here.” Maggie was slurring slightly. Wentworth scoffed, turned on his heel, and left, slamming the door behind him.

XXX

They were halfway through their second movie when someone started pounding on the front door. The sound made the kids jump slightly; Bill recovered first and opened the door. 

“Mr. T-Tozier?”

Richie choked on his popcorn. Stan laughed but quieted after seeing how pale Richie had turned.

“Is Richard here?”

Eddie snickered. “Richard!”

Bill glanced back at Richie, who shook his head furiously. “No, h-he’s not, s-sorry.”

“S-Sorry,” Wentworth mocked. Bill glared.

“I-Is there something e-else I can help y-you with, Mr. Tozier? Richie’s not h-here.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Wentworth shoved past Bill and he stumbled. The kids exclaimed.

XXX

The second Mr. Tozier spoke, Bev knew. She saw the way Richie curled into himself. She saw the way he fidgeted and shook. She knew the signs all too well.

Bev grabbed Richie’s trembling hand and pulled him into her side. He leaned into her touch, stiffly watching the interaction between Bill and Wentworth.

When Wentworth shoved past Bill, Richie sat bolt upright. His expression was guarded and tense.

Wentworth’s gaze landed on his son, and he grabbed Bill by the shoulder. “See? He’s right there, shithead.” Bill looked genuinely afraid. Richie stood sharply.

“Dad. Let him go, right now.”

Wentworth eyed him coolly. “I don’t think you’re in a position to tell me what to do, Richard. We’re going home.”

Richie balked. Wentworth let go of Bill and he stumbled, quickly going to stand beside his friends. Richie clutched Bev’s hand; Bev squeezed back.

“Let’s go.”

Richie took a step forward but Bev stopped him. “Rich…”

Richie turned and gave her a look, a look of wisdom beyond his years, a look that said “it’s okay, I’ve been through this before.”

Mr. Tozier grabbed Richie by the hair. He yelped as Wentworth dragged him out the door, slamming it behind them and leaving the losers in shock.

XXX

They heard the sound of a car driving away, and Stan broke the silence. “Are you okay, Bill?”

Bill nodded. “I d-didn’t know, I-I mean, I thought, maybe, b-but…”

“I did,” Bev whispered. He told me about it once. Made me promise not to tell. He made it sound like it wasn’t that bad.” 

“We have to go after him, what if his dad hurts him?” 

Bev’s eyes widened. “They left in a car. We only have bikes. By the time we get there…”

“Fuck.”

XXX

“You flunked two classes, Richard!”

“I got an A in one!”

“All your teachers say you talk out of hand, you’re disrespectful, you don’t care. You’re worthless!”

Wentworth punched him. “Pathetic! You’re never gonna leave this town, you know that? You’re worth shit!”

Richie’s neutral mask gave way to anger. “Yeah? Well at least I’ll be better than you! At least I won’t drown myself in alcohol and fucking abuse my kid!”

His father socked him in the stomach. He flew into a rage, beating his son mercilessly. Wentworth shoved him into the living room table and the glass shattered.

“Dad! Stop!” Richie scrambled to his feet, but his father pushed him to the ground with a foot on the back. Then the sound that haunted Richie’s nightmares; the unbuckling of a belt.

“Gonna teach you a lesson. Take off your shirt.”

“No, asshole.”

Wentworth kicked him in the head. Richie yelled.

“Take it off.”

“No.”

A kick to the ribs. Two. Five. Too many to count, too much pain, too m u c h.

“Okay!”

Coughing, Richie slowly pulled his shirt off. Wentworth held his head down with his foot. 

“Count.”

Crack. 

“One.”

XXX

“Twelve.”

Crack.

“Please!”

A kick to the ribs.

“Thirteen.”

Richie sobbed.

XXX

Eddie knocked on the door. “Richie!”

They heard a crack, then a yell. Again. Something in Bev awoke at the sound, something none of the others could understand. She pounded on the door. “Open the fucking door!”

The commotion inside stopped for just a second. 

(( Wentworth shoved the shirt at Richie, hissing at him to put it on. “Say anything and I’ll fucking kill you, got it?” ))

Wentworth Tozier opened the door. “Can I help you?”

“Where’s Richie?”

“He’s right here, we were just having a little talk. It’s getting late, you kids should be at home.”

Ignoring him, Eddie yelled, “Richie? Are you okay?”

Wentworth turned his steely gaze on his son, motioning for him to come over. He shuffled over stiffly. 

“I’m okay, guys.” 

Mr. Tozier put a hand on Richie’s shoulder and the boy cringed. No one knew what to do. 

“Mr. Tozier?”

Wentworth eyed Stan, surprised that he had the nerve to speak up. “Yes?’

“What happened to your table?” 

Both Richie and his father turned to glance back at the shattered glass table, and the losers saw that the back of Richie’s head was bleeding. On impulse, Bev snatched Richie’s hand and they sprinted into the dark street.

Richie heard his father yelling as they ran. He ran until he lost his breath, until he couldn’t see through the tears, until the adrenaline ran out and he sank to his knees in the middle of the street.

He cried, he cried so hard and Bev held him because she’s been there and goddammit Richie doesn’t deserve that.

XXX

The rest of them caught up fairly quickly. 

“C’mon, Rich. We gotta get you home.”

Richie’s eyes widened and he panicked and cried harder and Bev realized what she just said.

“No! No, I mean we gotta get you to Bill’s house and get you cleaned up. You’re not going back to your parents’ house.”

Richie looked at her to make sure she was telling the truth. He seemed to find what he was looking for because he nodded and made to stand. 

Everyone moved to help him. In the end, it was Stan on one side and Bev on the other, primarily because Richie refused to let go of Bev’s hand. He had drifted into this in-between state of not quite awake but still going through the motions.

Bev squeezed Richie’s hand. He rested his head on her shoulder. 

XXX

By the time they got to Bill’s house, Richie was on the verge of passing out. They gently lowered him to sit on the couch, not quite ready to brave the stairs to Bill’s room. Not with the way Richie was wheezing.

“Richie,” Bev said softly. “Where are you hurt?”

“My head and my stomach from when he kicked me. But mostly my back.”

“Can we take your shirt off?”

A nod. It was slow, mainly because Richie kept wincing and hissing, but nobody held it against him.

At first, they couldn’t see his back. They saw the deep bruising on his abdomen and winced in sympathy. Then he turned, and the losers gaped.

Swollen, bleeding red marks crossed his back. Stan wasn’t sure how Richie had managed to stay standing, much less run. 

Richie shifted under their gzes. Eddie took over. “I need tweezers, water, alcohol, bandages, and towels.”

Bill motioned for Bev to come with him. As they grabbed the towels, he whispered, “When we were r-running, his dad y-yelled that he’d k-kill Richie if he c-came back.”

XXX

“Rich?”

“Yeah?”

“I gotta clean your back and get the glass out. It might sting.”

Richie just nodded and closed his eyes. Bill and Bev sat by him; Bev ran her fingers through his hair.

“Stay with us, Rich. Don’t sleep yet.”

“Mmm-hmm. ‘M sorry ‘bout my dad, Bill.” 

“D-don’t be. Wasn’t your f-fault.”

Richie nodded.

It took a lot of gritted teeth and stifled yells, but eventually Richie was bandaged and glass-free. 

They settled on the couch. A movie was on, but they all knew it was more for show than for actually watching - it made it easier to pretend that everything was normal. Richie was bundled in blankets and surrounded by his friends; a drastic improvement from just an hour before.

Richie eventually fell asleep leaning against Bev’s shoulder. Bev wouldn’t move for a million bucks.

XXX

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going through a really rough patch right now. I'm sorry for not updating anything. I'm drowning and I'm tired of fighting.
> 
> anyways don't mind me. hope this was okay. let me know down below. I'm taking prompts too.


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